Gok'aush Wavecrusher
Gok'aush Wavesmasher is a mok'nathal who lived his early days as a coastal raider. He answered the call to war when the Horde was created, serving in the First and Second Wars. Managing to survive to this day, he continues to fight, albeit under an unclear banner. Mongrel Gok'aush was a child of mixed heritage. His mother was a member of the Mok'Nathal, mostly of ogre blood, while his father was an orc, supposedly a warrior of the Warsong clan. The two became involved in a tryst, the conditions of which are unknown. His mother dying in childbirth and his father being long gone, Gok'aush spent his dawning of his life in Mok'Nathal village. Gok'aush was typical of a Mok'nathal in appearance and size, save for his yellowish skin, which, as he was later told, was similar to that of his mother. With no parents to care for him, Gok'aush was overseen by the village elders. He lived a troubled childhood, bothered not only by his lack of parentage, but his complete lack of knowledge on them; he knew little of his father save for the fact that he was an orc, and according to some, from the Warsong clan. He knew a bit more of his mother, however; she was a huntress of the Mok'Nathal who became heavy with child after some time. She told none of the circumstances; Gok'aush's birth was a surprise, as his mother had no mate. Gok'aush's mother would never have to answer for it, as she died not long after. Gok'aush lived a fairly decent life otherwise. The elders often put him to labor, his muscles hardening before he was an adult. It wasn't long before Gok'aush was strong enough to draw a bow, and he found himself sent hunting frequently as well. He learned to track, to stalk, to hunt with or without tools. Like many of the Mok'Nathal, he found comfort in the wilds, among beasts rather than the warlike orcs or ogres. While beasts were free of deceit and greed, they could not give Gok'aush peace; his father may be alive, out there somewhere. On his eighteenth year, when he was nearly an adult, Gok'aush gave in to his desires. The possibility of his father being alive hounded at him constantly. In the night, he "borrowed" enough supplies to last him for quite some time, along with weapons; an axe and bow and arrows. Stealing was dishonorable, but damning your family was even more dishonorable. Gok'aush did not know if he would come back, but he knew where he was going; southwest, to the home of the Warsong; Nagrand. Marshes of the Zangar Gok'aush decided his best route of finding Nagrand was to follow the Zangar Sea. He reached the marshes of the fungal sea, already hardened by his travel. His supplies were running lower and lower, and he found himself fashioning his own stone arrows and catching his own meals. It was trying, though his mixed blood gave him the endurance and strength of an ogre without losing the cunning or agility of an orc. When Gok'aush first reached the marshy coast of the Zangar Sea, he was greeted by a curious sight; two odd creatures lay on the floor. One was large and motionless, the other small and twitching. Unknown to Gok'aush, they were sporebats. The larger one had a large wound, one clearly from a weapon. It was too clean to be the crushing smash of an ogre. A bit of sadness came over Gok'aush as he reached the conclusion that the smaller sporebat was likely the child of the larger one. Feeling empathy and pity for the twitching creature, Gok'aush took it in his hands, giving it a bit of food before deciding to set camp for the time being. Several days later, Gok'aush decided to move. The young sporebat, now able to move on its own, followed Gok'aush once he set out. Gok'aush was pleasantly surprised by this; he now had a companion. Gok'aush decided to call the young sporebat Goron, meaning "journey" in the orcish tongue. Gok'aush found the sporebat on his own journey, and if the sporebat was to continue to follow him, it would be on its own journey soon enough. But it the sporebat was to be his companion, it was only right to secure justice. Gok'aush returned to the site of the dead sporebat. The footprints in the swampy marsh were easy enough for someone with Gok'aush's skills to track. Gok'aush kept on the trail for several hours before spotting smoke. Quieting himself and crouching, he proceeded with caution. Hiding behind one of the mushrooms of the marsh, Gok'aush was able to get a clear view of the source of the smoke once peeking his head out. A crude tent lay beside a campfire, with an orc sitting beside it. The orc's clothing was adorned with various bones, and his garb itself was quite disturbing; it was made of leather, but the green hues across his clothing made the source of the leather unmistakable. Gok'aush drew his bow with caution, stepping out of cover. Silently nocking an arrow, he drew and fired. The bone-crushing force of the arrow drawn by the strong halfbreed ensured the orc would not rise once he fell. Gok'aush moved forward to examine his shot; it had struck the orc clean in the chest, crushing ribs and seemingly puncturing a lung; blood poured out of the orcs mouth as he looked up at the halfbreed, too weak to speak. Disgusted with the orc and his garb made from the flesh of orcs, Gok'aush left the orc to die from his wound, quickly heading back on his original trail in case there were other orcs. Fields of Nagrand Several weeks after traveling with Goron, the marshes of Zangar finally turned into the forests of Talador. He passed through Talador without incident, though spotted several of the draenei during his trip. He did not interact with them in fear of being mistaken for an ogre, a race they assumed hostility with. It was a few more days before he finally reached Nagrand. This was the home of the Warsong, but was this journey worth it? Gok'aush had only met one orc in his life; a savage who hunted a mother, further defying the act by leaving the kill to rot. Were all orcs like this? Was his father a savage who killed for sport and donned himself in the flesh of his own kind? It was too late to turn back now, though any joy that Gok'aush had upon reaching Nagrand was overshadowed with doubt. Gok'aush had no leads to follow once he was in Nagrand. He traveled across the plains for week, encountering the great clefthoof, the quick talbuk, the vicious worgs, but never an orc or ogre. But finally he reached a massive body of water. It seemed endless, and waves crashed upon the shores; had he already reached the coast? Months have passed, and he had only seen a single orc. At least Gok'aush had company for the journey; Goron had grown quite large, and looked as though he could be useful in a fight if need be. Setting up camp by the coast, Gok'aush caught a talbuk for dinner and decided to rest for some time before plotting his next course of action. After some contemplation, Gok'aush decided to rest his feet for a few days before heading along the coast in hopes of finding a Warsong village. With his mind as clear as can be, Gok'aush retired to his tent as the sun fell. Captured Gok'aush awoke the next morning to darkness. There was a severe pain in his head. His hands were tied, and as he came to, it was clear that the darkness was the result of a cloth tied tightly around his face. Brushing his head against the wall for some time, Gok'aush was finally able to slip the blindfold off. He was held inside of a wooden cage, which in turn was inside a covered leather tent. He could not see the outside, but he made out the sounds of what seemed to be orcs speaking. As Gok'aush worked his best to undo the bindings of his wrists, he listened carefully to his surroundings. The orcs outside spoke of ogres, of family, of axes, of food. Nothing relevant to Gok'aush. But concerns raced through his mind; were they going to fashion his thick skin into leather armor? What had happened to Goron? Did the orcs slay his companion? Were these the Warsong? Was his father in the village? But everything was going dim. The pain on Gok'aush's head burned. It seemed much easier to slump down and rest, and so he did. Gok'aush awoke. It was once again dark; clearly night, as no light seeped into the tent this time. There were no orcs speaking, only the chirping of birds and bugs outside. But he immediately smelled something. He reached in front of him, finding a seared slab of meat. Without question or hesitation, Gok'aush dug into the meat and before long, found it chewed to the bone. He set the bone to the side before leaning against the back of the cage once more. It was late, and his head still ached. The next few days were difficult to count for Gok'aush, and they were impossible to keep track of. He was never visited. He was fed less and less. The speaking of the orcs outside became more panicked and troubled, eventually loud enough for Gok'aush to make out through the padding of the tent he was in. The orcs spoke of ogres on the coast, of invaders, of the possible destruction of their village. A few of them even mentioned a halfbreed, though Gok'aush could not understand the context well. But there was no more food, not for a prisoner, and Gok'aush faded from exhaustion. What would awake him some time later was the screaming and the drums of battle. The Warsong village was under attack, clearly. Was it the ogres they had mentioned? Gok'aush waited for what seemed like hours until his question was finally answered. The opening cover of his tent was brushed aside by a large, intimidating figure. He had seen ogres before, but never up close. This large, intimidating figure had one eye, and a black beard that greatly contrasted his yellowish skin. Come to think of it, the ogre's skin color was much similar to Gok'aush's. Before he could think on the matter further, the ogre raised up his massive iron club, bashing the lock of the wooden cage, destroying it along with the door. Almost bewildered at the sight of the halbreed, the ogre took some time before speaking. He declared himself to be the warlord of a band of coastal raiders, and that this village was now theirs to plunder. The ogre offered Gok'aush a chance to live and serve in his ranks, so long as he proves to be useful. Gok'aush accepted, having few choices and wishing to live. He stepped out of the tent to see the ogres burning tents, killing orcs, and carrying off crates of supplies. Even if this was the village of Gok'aush's father, perhaps it was for the best that it was now gone. All that Gok'aush had seen of orcs was cannibalism, war, and imprisonment of innocents. It was not surprising that he joined the ogre band without many questions or doubts. Newblood Gallery WoWScrnShot 040914 151530.jpg|Gok'aush and a young Goron on the coast of the Zangar Sea. WoWScrnShot 051114 201107.jpg|Gok'aush in the invasion of Tol Barad during the Second War. WoWScrnShot_051114_194341.jpg|Gok'aush and his first companion on Pandaria. Category:Mok'nathal Category:Warrior Category:Hunter Category:Horde Category:Mercenary Category:Independent Category:Back story